


LIGHTS OUT, GOODNIGHT

by injeong



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Blood and Gore, Ghosts, Haikyuu - Freeform, Horror, I just adapted it, I'M SORRY FUTAKUCHI, Lights, M/M, Monsters, There will be another disclaimer in the notes, aone is kinda mentioned, as futakuchi's best friend, kamasaki is a good friend, the actual horror story is not mine, the police sucks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 22:01:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13750080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/injeong/pseuds/injeong
Summary: Futakuchi knows that there is nothing good waiting for him at home as soon as he opens the front door.orFutakuchi Kenji is home alone and there has been a power cut. Which only affects his house. And he can't seem to get out. And the lights do come on, one at a time, starting outside, then coming closer.





	LIGHTS OUT, GOODNIGHT

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer – the main plot of the storyline is taken from the novel “the Wrong Train” by Jeremy de Quidt. I have only added an ending and changed the characters (who now belong to the Haikyuu anime/manga)

Futakuchi knows that there is nothing good waiting for him at home as soon as he opens the front door.

His parents are out, and they won’t be back until next weekend which is fine, because Futakuchi is a perfectly capable human being and he can look after himself. The problem is there’s been a power cut, and he can’t seem to reach his parents’ numbers.

It’s still all fine, though. Futakuchi lights a candle (very safely, mind you) and decides to tap a random number on his phone to pass the time until the power comes back on, or until he decides to go to bed.

After a few rings, the person on the other end of the line picks up with a muffled, grumpy string of swear words which makes Futakuchi snort, because of course he ended up calling Kamasaki.

**“Ugh. Why are you calling me?”**

“There’s been a power cut and I have no other source of entertainment.”

He hears an irritated sound from the phone and smirks. **“Am I a source of entertainment to you?”**

“As of now, yes.”

**“Fuck you.”**

“No thank you, Kamasaki-san.”

There’s another jumbled string of swear words and Futakuchi can’t stop himself from sniggering because there really isn’t anything like winding up a short-tempered third year on a Friday evening.

**“You sure the power’s out, anyway? Doesn’t Aone live close by? There’s no power cut at his house, I think.”**

“Um. What?”

**“Power cuts are usually because of faults at power stations or other local networks. Usually an entire area is affected.”**

Futakuchi feels a twinge of doubt. He gets up, slips over his school books several times, trips on a stray volleyball, bumps into a desk, and reaches the window, yanking up the curtains. (Don’t ask why he had them closed. It was dark, anyway).

He stared at the light framing his neighbours’ windows and doors.

“Huh.”

**“Told ya.”**

“Maybe I should go to Aone’s house and wait there.”

**“You should. I’m going now.”**

Before Futakuchi can reply, there’s a beep and the line goes dead.

_Damnit, he got the last word._

Now this counts as Kamasaki’s win, though Futakuchi did manage to get him to swear quite a bit, so maybe he gets half a point.

Sighing, he blows out the candle (safely, very safely) and shoves his phone in his pocket. He doesn’t bother to text Aone, because neither Aone nor Aone’s family ask why every time he turns up. He’s Aone’s best friend, after all. Aone’s house is his house, and vice versa. (Although it’s usually just Futakuchi going to Aone’s house.) Pulling on his shoes, Futakuchi grabs his coat and his keys and opens the front door.

Or tries to.

It won’t open.

He fumbles about in the darkness for a while longer. Nothing is blocking the door – at least, he doesn’t think so. He tries fitting the key into the lock and unlocking it that way – but the door is unlocked. All he has to do is turn the handle and pull it open.

Maybe that time something was caught. Futakuchi tries again, tugging harder, but the door won’t open. It wobbles a little, though. Like it would open, but …

Something was holding it back.

Some strange electric current jolts up his spine and before he knows it he’s jumped up the stairs three at a time and is cowering in his bedroom because seriously, _who the fuck holds someone’s front door closed_?? The security light outside had been on, and there had been no shadow that would indicate a person being outside.

Futakuchi tries to laugh it off. Something so trivial wouldn’t scare _him_ , Futakuchi Kenji.

Except …

There was a power cut. The security light couldn’t have been on.

Just in case, Futakuchi reaches out and gropes along his wall for a few seconds, before his fingers brush a cool, metal panel. He flicks the switch.

There’s a click, the switch turns … and nothing happens.

But the security light had definitely been on.

He was sure of it.

And something had been holding the door shut.

He’d never been more sure of anything in his life.

He relights the candle and several others for good measure. His father had a torch in the garden shed, and there was probably one somewhere in the house, but his bedroom door is shut and he wants to keep it that way.

Futakuchi almost scorns himself. Who gets so scared over a messed up power cut? Seriously?

 

His fingers definitely aren’t trembling when he picks up his phone and unlocks it, going to his texts.

> **FROM: FUTAKUCHI**  
>  TO: KAMASAKI  
>  power cut in my house but the security light was on??? and something holding my door shut I swear  
>  wtf

 

He puts down his phone, then picks it up again.

Something tells him not to let go of it.

It’s a fucking power cut, he reminds himself. Stop being such a wimp.

> His phone buzzes and he almost throws it across the room in his surprise.
> 
> **FROM: KAMASAKI**  
>  TO: FUTAKUCHI  
>  lol wow haha
> 
>  
> 
> **FROM: FUTAKUCHI**  
>  TO: KAMASAKI  
>  i’m srs it’s rlly weird
> 
>  
> 
> **FROM: FUTAKUCHI**  
>  TO: KAMASAKI  
>  i have a bunch of candles but they only going to last another 1.5 hrs and my phone is on thirty perc|  
> 

He’s about to type some more when something lights up in his garden and he jumps.

It’s the garden security light.

It’s on.

Blazing bright white.

Powerful and bright and on.

Then _pik_ – it’s dark again.

> **FROM: FUTAKUCHI**  
>  TO: KAMASAKI  
>  i have a bunch of candles but they only going to last another 1.5 hrs and my phone is on thirty percent  
>  the garden security light just went on for like thirty seconds just now but the power is still out  
>  i don’t get it
> 
>  

He sends the message.

Staring at the little text at the bottom the screen that said Kamasaki was typing, he breathes out deeply, trying to calm whatever he was feeling. (Definitely not nerves and most certainly not panic.)

Then he hears another _pik_ and the garden security light goes on again.

He’s definitely seeing it now.

It’s one hundred percent there, the light blazing white and the shadows darker than dark, and –

Something black curls out of sight into the shadows.

Futakuchi forgets to breathe for about a minute, staring fixatedly at the spot. It wasn’t a fox. Foxes didn’t look like that. It wasn’t a bird, or any animal. It also didn’t look like a human.

What had it been?

His nerves are strung so tightly that it almost causes a cramp when the phone buzzes and Futakuchi finally remembers to breathe, sucking in air so fast he ends up coughing then quickly covering his face with his pillow because he needs to be quiet.

Wait, no he doesn’t.

But there’s something watching him. He feels it.

He glances down at the phone to distract himself.

> **FROM: KAMASAKI**  
>  TO: FUTAKUCHI  
>  u not joking? 4 real?
> 
> **FROM: KAMASAKI**  
>  TO: FUTAKUCHI  
>  wdym, door won’t open?
> 
> **FROM: FUTAKUCHI**  
>  TO: KAMASAKI  
>  i mean it won’t open  
>  i can’t open it  
>  and the garden security light just went on and something came out of it i swear idk what it was
> 
> **FROM: FUTAKUCHI**  
>  TO: KAMASAKI  
>  i feel like smth is here but my parents wont be back for another few days and ive been alone here for a while but im only feeling like this now
> 
> **FROM: FUTAKUCHI**  
>  TO: KAMASAKI  
>  there was something in the garden i swear i fucking swear  
> 

 

His fingers are flying over the keypad so fast that there the correcting of all the typos that he made takes longer than the actual typing of the texts.

His shirt is sticking to his back. Futakuchi reaches up, then freezes when he hears the blankets crinkle loudly.

Quiet, quiet.

> **FROM: KAMASAKI**  
>  TO: FUTAKUCHI  
>  whoa calm down
> 
> **FROM: KAMASAKI**  
>  TO: FUTAKUCHI  
>  i guess u srs
> 
> **FROM: KAMASAKI**  
>  TO: FUTAKUCHI  
>  you try calling 110? maybe they can like, unlock the door or smth
> 
> **FROM: FUTAKUCHI  
>  TO: KAMASAKI**  
>  i’ll try
> 
>  

It doesn’t work. Of course.

The police think he’s some teenager on a dare.

They cut him off with the false politeness that means they are taking no more nonsense and will make space for more “important” issues, and they hang up.

Futakuchi calls them again, desperate, because he tried to open his window and it won’t open, and despite his panic he had run downstairs, tried the front door again, and had run back upstairs in less than forty seconds. The door still hadn’t opened.

The police threatened to call his parents and arrest him because wasting the police’s time with pranks and jokes was unacceptable.

By this time Futakuchi feels like crying, and the security light had switched on and off several more times.

And he’d seen the thing again, only each time it came closer to the side of the house. The side of the house had a door that led to the kitchen.

Then the garden security light stopped turning on. Futakuchi hovers uncertainly between relief and fear, but his emotions are blanked out by another panic when the security light outside the kitchen door turned on with a small, sharp _pik_ that he heard from his bedroom.

His phone starts ringing, and Futakuchi hurries to pick up because the noise is so loud, so dangerously loud.

**“Futakuchi?”**

Oh.

“Kamasaki-san?”

He hears a sigh on the other side of the line. **“I guess the cops didn’t accept your call.”**

“They thought it was a prank.”

Futakuchi stares at the darkness outside, and there’s another _pik_ and he sees the light flooding the kitchen door, out of the corner of his bedroom window. He makes a small, terrified noise unconsciously. Because something had been there. Something was getting closer.

Closer to him.

**“- kuchi? Oi! You still there?”**

Futakuchi snaps back to the present. “Y-Yes.”

**“What’s wrong? You sounded …”**

He growls because he can’t stand it anymore, and the words start spilling out. “It’s outside the kitchen, it’s getting closer, I can’t stop it, nobody believes me when I say I’m _literally fucking trapped inside my own house_ which is the only one dark in the _entire_ neighbourhood, _everything’s_ going wrong and if I end up – “

He can hear Kamasaki over the line, his tone probably more worried than he’s ever heard the third-year sound like before, but the words are drowned out by the thundering of his heartbeat because the security light outside the kitchen isn’t turning on and off anymore, but the kitchen light inside had turned on.

“ _Shit_ ,” he whispers.

Then he remembers Kamasaki, who seems to be going frantic over the phone. **“What the fuck are ya sayin’? I can’t understand what’s coming out of your mouth, just slow down and – oh _fuck_ it, I’m coming over.” **

Futakuchi forces himself not to panic, his heart pumping in his throat, and whispers – why is he whispering? – “You live in the opposite direction of school from here, Kamasaki-san.”

**“Then get your shit sorted!”**

“I can’t!” he whispers back, and he hears the _pik_ again but this time it’s not the kitchen, it’s the _downstairs_ _corridor_. It’s coming. Futakuchi can’t stop it, and he knows his panic is bleeding into his words and he can hear his voice trembling when he repeats, “I _can’t_.”

Kamasaki is silent, and the silence means he can hear the corridor light turn on and off again. _Pik_.

**“Futakuchi?”**

He can’t speak, he feels like he’ll be sick if he opens his mouth, so he just makes a quiet noise.

**“Are you still in your house?”**

He makes a sound again.

**“Is there anything you can … well, basically attack someone with?”**

“I don’t think so …” Futakuchi stumbles over the words that feel to large and clumsy and loud and alien in his mouth, and as he speaks he sees the light in the corridor turn off, and the lights in front of the stairs turn on. He whimpers. “It’s coming, it’s right under the stairs, what do I do – “

**“Hey, slow down. Just hide, somewhere, and stay quiet – do you want me to go off the phone? So I don’t make a noise?”**

“No, please, I – “ the light underneath the stairs turns off with a pik, and then the lower half of the stairs is illuminated with a light that is brighter than anything he has ever seen, unnaturally bright. He shrinks away, pulling the covers right down into the mattress so that they cover every inch of his body. He can’t see out, but the light is so bright that he can see where it is –

The lights go out. Kamasaki is whispering words that sound panicked and worried and he sounds like he’s running, but Futakuchi can’t hear anything except a horrible sliding noise that is on the stairs, barely ten feet away now, now nine, eight, seven, then the lights on the landing turn on with a pik.

There’s a long silence, where Futakuchi can hear his blood roaring in his ears and his body is trembling so much that anybody who looked into his room could probably see a shaking mass and know instantly where he was hiding, and he wants to stay still but his heart is thudding loudly, so loudly, he can feel every beat against his arm, pressed up against his chest in the awkward curled up position that he’s in, and he tries to control his breathing, tries not to make his body move with each breath because it’s here, it’s right here and right outside –

 _Pik_.

The lights on the landing turn off. The tiny space underneath the blanket – and the entire room, the entire house – goes dark. So dark. Futakuchi’s phone is pressed face down by his head, and only a thin line of light that is barely visible, since he set the settings to the dimmest it could get, and for some reason Kamasaki isn’t speaking anymore but he’s grateful, because now maybe it won’t see him or hear him or sense him and it’ll leave and he’ll be safe and he can apologize to the police and forget about it and –

 _Pik_.

His bedroom floods with light, and he freezes, the shock even halting the trembling throughout his whole body.

One thought.

It’s here.

It might not find him, though – Futakuchi is silent and he’s even holding his breath so that he doesn’t make any noise and there’s only about a minute and a half between each light, as long as he can stay still and silent for that long then he would survive. The blanket is thick and the light is bright. It’s only slightly dark underneath the blanket,

but

something

slowly

every so slowly

reaches under

the blanket

and slowly

ever so slowly

pulls

and the light

comes in

and Futakuchi

sees.

He screams.

Loudly, so loudly, and he tries, he tries so hard to cover his eyes and scramble away, even when his back thuds against the end of his bed and the light cuts into his eyelids and he’s still screaming, screaming even though his throat goes dry and his lungs begin to burn and his voice starts shaking and rasping but he’s still screaming because it’s there and he sees and it’s bright and loud and the pain, ripping, wet and warm and slick down his face and metallic and it’s agony, he’s screaming louder and something seems to be ripping his throat from the pain, maybe something is, pain, pain, bright, too bright, it’s there

and then

it’s

dark.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

~*~

Futakuchi’s screams make Kamasaki stumble from shock.

To be honest, he thought it was a prank, at first. He’d never admit it in front of the boy, but he can’t tell whether his actions are a prank or not (and that has been his downfall many, many times, along with the rest of the Dateko team).

But there was no doubting this.

The police had been suspicious when he’d called them asking to help a friend, and when he’d been forced to give Futakuchi’s name, they told him that they would have to charge him if he didn’t stop wasting their time.

Fuck the police.

If something happened to Futakuchi because the fucking policemen couldn’t recognize a danger when they saw one, he was going to march into the station and –

He’s running faster now, because he can’t hear Futakuchi anymore but the call is still ongoing, which means that either Futakuchi is still hiding or –

 _No_.

Gritting his teeth, Kamasaki rounds a corner and sees a house that has its lights out in the middle of a street full of blinds framed with rays of light and open windows with light spilling out and _shit_ , why hadn’t he listened to him? _Why hadn’t he come sooner?_

The door is open.

His heart drops. It’s silent inside.

He has nothing except his phone on him, but he pushes the door open and steps inside anyway.

It’s dark. Unnaturally dark.

His phone is bright, though. He uses it, turning the screen brightness up the highest it could go, and briefly searches the bottom floor – the kitchen, the living room, even stepping tentatively out into the garden.

There’s nothing there.

He runs up the stairs, calling Futakuchi’s name and it’s only when he reaches the landing and gently pushes open the bedroom door when he hears his voice.

He switches on the bedroom light, and the figure huddled in the corner of the room, face to the wall, doesn’t react but continues rocking back and forth slightly, hands wrapped around his head, whimpering.

It’s Futakuchi.

“Jesus fucking _Christ_ ,” he breathes, and steps forwards, slipping his phone back into his pocket. The room is wrecked, papers and scattered over the desk and the carpet and the drawers have been yanked open and clothes strewn across the floor, and there is a crack in the wall that hadn’t been there before. He picks his way around carefully, and kneels down next to the boy.

“Futakuchi?”

Futakuchi doesn’t answer.

There’s a lingering smell in the air, something sharp and metallic but he can’t quite remember what it is.

“Hey. Can you hear me?” He reaches out to touch his shoulder, and then stops.

Futakuchi is whispering a single word over and over again.

“ _Dark_.”

Kamasaki stares because he doesn’t quite know what to do. Futakuchi keeps going like a broken record, rocking back and forth, his whole body tense. Kamasaki takes his arm and pulls slightly. “Futakuchi, look at me.”

He stops rocking.

“Kamasaki-san?”

A small wave of relief washes over him. “Yeah. There’s nothing here. I checked.”

Futakuchi is quiet for a while, and suddenly the relief is gone and Kamasaki can feel an uneasiness growing inside him, becoming heavier and deeper and _something_ _is_ _not_ _right_.

“Kamasaki-san …”

Futakuchi finally turns around and Kamasaki yells in shock and falls backwards, staring in transfixed horror, wanting to look away but he can’t, because

Futakuchi’s eyes are gone.

They’re gone and instead of the soft brown eyes that he recognizes, there is just blackness, a gaping hole washed out with blood that trickles down his pale face like the tears that he can’t cry.

“… why is it so dark?”

 

**Author's Note:**

> It's two hours past my bedtime and I have another few hundred french words to learn for a test tomorrow and I spent three hours writing this on a whim, so I hope you like it :)  
> I just heard a sound that's like a child screaming but through a static radio outside. (I hope it was a cat.)  
> I think I just got scared by my own fanfic.  
> Great, I can't sleep without the lights now :') aNyWaY, I hope you enjoyed this!
> 
>  
> 
> EDIT: I WROTE AN ALTERNATIVE ENDING WITH FLUFF AND NOBODY DIES. If you want to read it, the link is here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14822471  
> Please enjoy ^^


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